Inchoate
by Foxy'sGirl
Summary: A place to collect random drabbles, concurrently posted on tumblr
1. Eye for an Eye

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Hiccup reaches up and scratches his eye, swearing under his breath when his fingers run into smooth leather instead of a lower eyelid. It was a month ago, and he's still not used to it. It wasn't this bad with his damn leg. He slides a fingernail under the edge of the patch, scratching the tickle and turning back to his drawing, compensating for his field of vision and turning his head a little too far to the right.

"Hiccup?" Astrid comes through the door behind him and he sits up too fast, smacking the blind side of his head against the nearby shelf.

He swears and clutches at the new bruise, and Astrid is behind him, cool hands fussing with the hair around the patch's leather band. "Are you ok—"

"Yes," he snaps, pushing the seat back and standing. He turns too far to see her and she's worried, snow melting in her hair, which is somehow a different color now.

"Maybe we should just take the shelf down, if you keep whacking yourself on it."

"No, I like the shelf. I've always had the shelf." He reaches out to touch it and fumbles slightly, misjudging the distance. Astrid catches his hand and places it on her hip, keeping him from making a fool out of himself. Her expression says 'you're welcome' before he has a chance to thank you. "Any news on Dagur? Buy any regal displays for his enemies' body parts lately?"

"Johann hasn't heard anything," she clenches her fists and glares past him. "We'll get him. I'll take his hand."

"I'll go for the tongue," Hiccup looks at his feet and scowls. "I can't believe he _licked_ the blood off."

"I can."

"Jealous looks good on you," he tries to make a joke out of it and she doesn't laugh, resting her hand on his arm and out of his new field of vision. He smiles at her and her lip quirks, struggling under the weight of her glare.

"It's some battle scar," she strokes the side of his face and he tries to brush her off. "You've got quite the collection started."

"I hope my collection is finished," he rolls the eye he has left and she cocks her head, shuffling closer to him.

"I wouldn't say no to helping you _catalog_ it…"

Her hands fall to the waist of his pants and he grins.

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**Ok, I really wanted to try my hand at both tumblr and drabbling, and this seemed like a good place to start. I'm definitely taking requests, please find me, I'm tysonrunningfox and I'm excited to hear some of your ideas!**


	2. Promotions

**I had a hankering for strangely tense Stobber. **

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Of course Gobber always knew that this would happen someday, it was an inevitability already when he met the chief, but he didn't think he'd ever find out like _this_. He figured Stoick would pull him aside, let him know away from the tribe, that he was more important to Stoick than to be lumped with everyone else, called to the same official meeting and _informed_.

Stoick is getting married the Freya's day after harvest, and summer is going to be shorter than ever.

For possibly the first time in Gobber's exceptionally chatty life, he avoids Stoick and cuts a patch through the village alleyways to the forge, aiming to take out some dread he can't quite place on his anvil. He's just affixing his hammer hand when someone barges in without knocking and he whirls to tell them off.

Some people make fantastic anvils.

"We're closed." He stops short at the sight of Stoick standing by the fire. "Shouldn't ye be celebratin' the good news?"

"It wasn't much of a celebration."

"I'm not gonna deliver yer mead barrels, if that's what ye're asking." The smith barks, turning to his stack of work and choosing a particularly mangled war hammer that could use some really violent attention and smacking it into the fire. His moustache singes in the resulting shower of sparks and Stoick rests a hand on his shoulder.

"I should have told you. I just didn't know how—"

"So in a room with the entire tribe seemed like yer best bet? Ye're a smart man, Stoick, but sometimes ye're not very _bright_."

"Bjorn is talking about retiring. I'll need a new advisor."

Gobber turns around slowly to face the chief, corner of his mouth quirking reluctantly under his still smoking moustache. "Ye're asking me to take Bjorn's place?"

"No one else tells me when I'm being stupid."

"They do. Ye just don't hear them."

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	3. Snotlogic

**I'm a little concerned about how easily this first person Snotlout happened. I should be concerned. **

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Eugh. They're kind of disgusting when they don't think anyone is looking. My cousin's scrawny arm is around Astrid's shoulders and she's smiling about it, leaning into him. Like he won't just fall over anyway.

Maybe this is why she's been giving me even less of a chance lately. She's less prone to hitting me at least, and as we all know, hitting is how real Vikings show affection. Hiccup isn't even a real Viking, not in the Thawfest champion sort of way, and he likes hugs and—

Oh gross, she just kissed him on the cheek, and he's all red now, tripping over his own fake foot and holding on to Toothless's saddle. His knees are probably all jiggly and weak. Nerd.

She doesn't seem to mind though, she grabs the collar of his vest and leans in, kissing him on the lips this time. I probably shouldn't be watching this, no matter what the twins said, I bet they came to this far off corner of the woods to be _alone_.

Astrid _wants_ to be alone with him.

And that's sort of…different. Astrid doesn't want much, or maybe she just doesn't want much from me. Not that I've ever wanted much from her either, she's just good looking and the second best Viking around and of course I had to try. But Hiccup actually wants something from her, with her, and he's reaching for her hand. He doesn't even flinch when she takes it and I really shouldn't be here. I should be beating up the twins for sending me out here.

I squeeze Hookfang's neck with my knees and he looks back at me, obviously disappointed. Because I'm supposed to be trying something, aren't I? I came out here all fired up about my woman and my honor and my skills.

"I'm…I'm just doing Hiccup a solid, boy." He scoffs at me, smoke pouring from his nostrils and I glare at him. "Seriously. I got all the muscles and good looks in the family, and Hiccup can have the girl. And then I never have to apologize for beating him up as a kid." He flaps his wings, still irritated. "That's it. I'm apologizing without ever having to say I'm sorry. Let's go get the twins, I will do something about them."

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	4. Father of the Bride

Not even going to lie, this was tremendously fun. Thanks for the hilarious prompt.

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This is going…well, not great, but better than Hiccup could have hoped for. He feels uncomfortably small in his father's chair at the head of the great hall, but no one else seems to notice. He can see the men in the back of the room starting to get restless, their minds drifting from issues in the village to the casks of ale in the corner.

"Ok then, if no one else has anything else to add, I think we can probably call this meeting for today—"

"I have something to _add_," a booming voice from the back of the room calls the crowd to attention better than Hiccup did at the beginning of the meeting. He almost flinches at the sound, out of habit, like he's been caught doing something wrong. The tone reeks of authority and he envies it at the same time as it makes him nervous.

"Yes, Mr. Hofferson?"

"The harvest is coming up soon, when can we expect to see a wedding?"

The room falls silent and Hiccup breaks it with an awkward laugh, looking around the crowd for a clue as to what he's missing.

"Who are you planning on marrying? Does your wife know?" He laughs at his own joke but only a few men titter, the air in the room growing tense.

"No, chief, I was asking when you're intending to marry my daughter."

The room falls absolutely silent, and someone's chair scoots across the floor, squawking like the pause is supposed to be comedic. It isn't.

"That's a _loaded_ question."

"You don't have a date in mind?"

"Why don't we say this meeting is…over? It's…I think we're done here. Mr. Hofferson, if you want to talk privately—I mean, I'll come talk to you. I'll be right over." Hiccup babbles through the sentence and the room stares at him. Gobber mutters something under his breath on Hiccup's right and Spitelout snorts, clapping his hand over his mouth and trying to play it off like he was just stroking his beard. "Right."

No one moves and Hiccup stands up, waving his arm aimlessly until the Vikings start funneling towards the casks of ale. Mr. Hofferson stands stock still at the back of the room and Hiccup walks over to him, ignoring the curious looks.

"So, Mr. Hofferson—"

"I didn't want to put you on the spot there, chief," the big man steps forward, and the thump of his hand on Hiccup's shoulder isn't altogether unfamiliar. Astrid's strength had to come from somewhere. "But I'm sure not getting a straight answer from my daughter."

"I love Astrid very much," Hiccup says in a low voice, pretending that he has a chance of keeping this conversation private.

"Well, that's the thing," Mr. Hofferson leans down and it's vaguely threatening, a look that belongs in a nightmare's face and has obviously been out of use for the past few years. He looks happy to dust it off and his hand clamps down on Hiccup's shoulder, "When a Viking loves a _maiden_ there are things he must do."

"Or the maiden's father assaults the Viking?" Hiccup attempts sarcasm, but that nightmare face is back and his eyes widen. Why can't it all be giant dragons? He'd rather deal with another Red Death than finish this conversation.

"Then we have an understanding," Mr. Hofferson claps him on the back. "Son."


	5. The Eyes Have It

Anonymous: A drabble, if you please, of Dagur having a conversation with Hiccup's severed eye. KTHNXBAI. 3

This got weird. I'm sorry.

And note, this ties in with Chapter 1

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Dagur holds the small jar up to the light, filled with clear grain alcohol and swirling around a slightly yellowed eye with a dingy green iris.

"I got my revenge on four Outcasts today. You should have heard them wail, it was delicious," he cups the jar in both hands and sits down on the foot of his big, chiefly bed and holds the jar in both hands, looking at the shade of green against his skin. "Maybe I should take your ear next, just build a whole new Hiccup, except this one would be _mine_. Wrap it all up in Night Fury skin and-"

"Sir?" Someone knocks on his door and he growls, clutching the jar and imagining it has fingers to grab him back.

Fingers. Maybe he should take some fingers and an ear.

"What is it?"

One of his guards barely opens the door, peeking in at him with a boring brown eye and Dagur springs to his feet, holding the jar on the flat of his palm and waving the guard the rest of the way into the room. "Don't you think it's pretty?" He holds the jar up towards the other man and grins when the eye bobs off of the side, twisting towards him. "Don't answer that, idiot. Was there something important you wanted to tell me?"

"There's word from one of the Scouts, they spotted the Blue Nadder from Berk just off of the coast."

"I don't _care_ about the Nadder!" Dagur stomps and tucks the small jar into a special pocket on the front of his armor. "I care about the Night Fury, and I care about getting the rest of Hiccup. Don't tell me about the damn Nadder."

"It was heading towards us—"

"Take care of it. I want to be alone."

"What…what if we can't take care of it, sir?" The guard looks scared and Dagur laughs.

"Then the girl kills all of you and takes me back to Hiccup. I imagine he wants revenge, and I want an ear and a few of his fingers. Maybe we can trade."


	6. Man Hands

**My attempt at Tuffstrid, from a request. **

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"She just _hit_ you?" Tuffnut leans too close to Snotlout's face, examining the large, purple bruise spreading from the other boy's eye, down towards his cheek. His lower lip is split too, chin stained with dried blood from that morning. "She just cold cocked you? For no real reason?"

"I don't get what her problem is," Snotlout pulls back his lip and pokes a raw empty gap in his lower teeth. "I was just _talking_ to her, you know? Just telling her about the big rock I threw and how she should come watch me throw another one and she just hauled off and hit me. She's crazy, man, good thing she totally hits like a girl."

"My sister hits like a girl," Tuffnut snickers. "But these aren't girly hits. These are like, actual punches. Can I see your tooth again?"

"Oh, the tooth I don't have?" Snotlout peels back his lip and points to the spot. "Ruining my dashing smile. And I was using it on her too, she was lucky enough to get the good charm. I was actually trying."

"Trying to do what?" Tuffnut's own tongue probes his lower teeth. "Did she knock it out in _one_ punch? Because that's sort of impressive."

"I was trying to let her watch me throw another boulder. I thought she would like it, she has to start missing muscles at some point, hanging around with my cousin all the time."

"Seriously, did she knock it out with one punch?"

He salivates at the thought, the hard bony knuckles of Astrid's apparently bony fist bashing into the side of his face and taking his tooth with it. "She has pretty big fists doesn't she? For a girl."

"I don't get what her problem is. I just want her to be my babe—"

"So you called her 'babe' and she hit you? With those burly, manly fists?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you." Snotlout shakes his head and pokes his fat lip one last time. "She's crazy. Crazy hot, but also crazy. And not harmless crazy like your sister. Crazy, crazy."

"Yeah…I'll see you later, dude." Tuffnut walks away in the middle of Snotlout's sentence, meandering to the academy with a little more determination than normal. Astrid is always here, isn't she? Doing boring stuff that Hiccup tells her to and punching people. She's inside the front gate with her axe, twirling it around with those prime, punching hands. He pauses and leans against the wall, cupping his hand to his mouth and shouting, "Hey _babe_."

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	7. Clumsy

**Flame8kdg: I really enjoy your stories first off. I find myself rereading them constantly. Any possibility of making a Drabble of right after the first movie where Astrid is overly protective of hiccup, not used to moving in his new leg but not really bothered by it like he should be? Thank you for your time!**

**Thank you for the prompt!**

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Astrid's head jerks around at the crash, fast enough to give her whiplash. Of course it's Hiccup, apologizing to Hoark and trying to help him pick up the fish scattered across the street. Astrid runs over and catches his elbow before he can fall, new foot still clumsy and slick on the dirt.

"Oh! Hey, Astrid," he flushes and tries to shrug her off, only succeeding after she has him rebalanced. He immediately bends down again to pick up a fish, and his foot slips out from under him. He catches himself with his hands and tries to scrabble back to his foot, and she helps him, hand hooked under his armpit. He's too warm and she wonders if the fever came back, it's only been a week since he woke up and half of her is still just waiting for something to go wrong. "And I thought I was clumsy before," he laughs, shuffling away from her. "Sorry about the fish, Hoark."

The man waves his silent forgiveness and hustles down the road with his now slightly grimy fish.

"Are you ok?" She asks brushing dirt off of Hiccup's skinny shoulder and he shrugs, batting her hand away.

"I'm fine."

She glances at his foot and he laughs. "Come on, Astrid. This stuff happened all the time before the foot. Now I just have a really convenient excuse. And people don't yell at me about it."

"So where are you going?" She stands back, hands on her hips. "And where's Toothless?"

"Oh, actually," he holds his leg out towards her and gestures to it. "As you just saw, this thing has no tread on it. I'm going to the forge to figure something out."

"And Toothless?" Normally the Night Fury is three feet away, catching Hiccup before he falls.

"Gobber said he's not allowed in the forge until he learns to _behave,_ whatever that means." Hiccup shrugs and starts walking, waving his hands energetically when he sees her joining him. "Toothless lights the ceiling on fire _one_ time and it's a lifetime ban…"

"You're going to the forge now?" She's oddly nervous and she clears her throat. "Is Gobber there?"

"I hope not," he laughs. "He's still mad about the ceiling."

"So you're going to the forge to work on your leg alone? Around all the knives and red hot hammers and—"

"Don't forget axes. I still have to sharpen yours, by the way. I promised." He nudges his elbow against hers and stumbles slightly.

He's going to fall into the fire, isn't he? Headfirst probably, and he doesn't have Toothless with him and—

"I'll come with you."

"Really?" He grins at her, flushed red. "You don't have to—not that I don't want you to, because I do, but—yeah. Are you sure?"

He trips over nothing and she catches his shoulder.

"Of course I'm sure. Let's go."


	8. To Tea or not to Tea

**Fishlegs once mentioned Astrid eating dragon nip in an episode lol Could you write Astrid on dragon nip? Like a dark satirical drabble. Love every drabble you have done.**

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She thought it was tea. Really. It was in the cupboard where her mother keeps the tea, and her stomach hadn't been feeling too well, and a cup of fresh mint tea was obviously the way to go.

It wasn't tea.

Astrid sits in front of her house, staring out at the rest of the island, the brilliant swirling orange of the wind between thatched roofs. The stars are out even though it's early afternoon, twinkling like flickering firelight in the sky and she lays back on the grass, hugging the handle of her axe close to her chest and sighing.

Why does she throw this axe anyway? It's much better in her arms, braced solid and soothing against her hip. She can almost pretend it's a bony arm or leg or boy, attached to pretty green eyes that glow like Stormfly's confusion as the dragon leans over her face and looks down at her.

"S'okay girl," she reaches up and pats the side of the dragon's face, laughing at the pointed pink tongue that tickles her fingers, smelling like fish and concern.

Concern reminds her of the ocean. Salty and attention grabbing, incomprehensibly large when she really stops to think about it.

"Astrid?"

She laughs at the voice, sitting up halfway, axe on her chest, to see Hiccup and Toothless standing by her feet. He nudges her heel with his metal foot and it _sparkles_, glittery like granite.

"Are you ok?"

"Lay down with me," she impulsively chucks her axe to the side, not noticing when it imbeds deep into the rain soft dirt.

"You don't look so good. You're all red and—whoa!" He tries to resist when she sits up and grabs his hand, yanking him down next to her with a thud. "Astrid, what are you doing?"

"I don't think my tea was tea," she mutters, mostly to herself, before squirming halfway on top of him, planting her head in the center of his chest and relaxing, boneless in the sun. "The stars are really _pretty_, you know?"

"Ok, let's get you to the Goethi," he nervously places one hand on the back of her head and tries to coax her to sit.

"In a minute," she protests by pressing harder into his chest, her leg hooking across his.

He sighs, "ok, in a minute."

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	9. Dual Fetch

**First I'm the same malik-the-night-angel that reads your fics on Fanficion (HUGE fan btw). Now I have a drabble request cause I know you do those. Can we get something where Hiccup and Eret have both annoyed Astrid and she decides to have Stormfly fetch both of them at the same time? Keep on writing!**

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Eret and Hiccup rarely see eye to eye. Not that they're constantly bickering or anything, and they actually work quite well together when it comes down to it, but Astrid has never seen them _agree_ on anything until now.

And it is _infuriating._

"It's not too _big_ for me," Astrid stomps and twirls the axe in her hand, fingers slipping over the well-worn path in the wooden handle. "It's my uncle Finn's and it's perfect, I don't know what you two are talking about."

"It's as tall as your shoulder," Hiccup points out as she sets its hilt on the ground and tries to lean on it. She has to bend her arm at an awkward angle to even attempt her usual stance and Eret _hoots_ when she stumbles, clapping Hiccup on the back and leaning forward.

"She looks so _small_."

"I do not look small!" Astrid picks up the axe, ready to menace, but it slips in her grip, unfamiliarly balanced. Hiccup cracks a smile.

"You do look sort of small. A little bit."

"A little bit?" Eret exhales like he's trying to calm down, swallowing another guffaw. "Should we get her a terror to ride?"

"Oh!" Hiccup joins in on the joke, "a little _pink_ one, that'd be adorable—"

"Stormfly? Fetch." Astrid ignores their indignant cries as the Nadder lifts them off of the ground.


End file.
